


Keep it Sweet

by Fetishes



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha America (Hetalia), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Human, Little House on the Prairie - Freeform, M/M, Mpreg, Omega England (Hetalia), Omega Verse, conservative parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22867792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fetishes/pseuds/Fetishes
Summary: Alfred and Arthur are enjoying each other's company without Arthur's dad breathing down their necks when Arthur goes into heat.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 135





	1. First

**Author's Note:**

> lol sorry. There are SO MANY em dashes sorry it's the only thing I know :/  
> I hope you enjoy this story. I worked very hard on it, ahha.  
> Teen Mpreg and insanely conservative parents ahead.

Alfred was shamelessly romantic. Whenever he got the chance, he'd shower his boyfriend with compliments and gifts. He worked his way into Arthur's family with flattery and adopting similar sentiments and interests as the Brit's father, mother, etc. 

Arthur's family was very traditional. More than once did Alfred hear Arthur's father talk about Omegas that "ruined their lives young" with multiple steamy, secret rendezvous with lively Alphas that they couldn't keep secret. Usually, those rants would end with Mr. Kirkland patting his son's interest on the back saying, "But– you wouldn't do something like that to my Arthur, would you?"

"I'd never dream of it, Mr. Kirkland," he'd always reply. Of course– that wasn't a lie. He never dreamed of Arthur in a sensual light. He never squirmed under his sheets, tugging at his dick desperately to a vision of the Omega panting and moaning and twisting under Alfred's hands– face red and lips bruised. Never once did it ever occur to Alfred of how great it would feel to get up inside Arthur– holding his hips while they started to move– Alfred thrusting gently while Arthur ground back against him. No– of course not– never once. Alfred's dad was conservative. 

It was rare that they got a moment alone. Arthur always had to keep his door open so that his dad could always have an eye on them in case they ever did anything ungodly. Alfred would never even think to do anything like that to his gorgeous, God-fearing boyfriend. No sir. They would just sit on Arthur's bed and watch some television. Oh, _Little House on the Prairie._ A classic. 

But then Arthur started squirming. A nice smell filled the room– like what you'd expect after rain or freshly cut grass. Maybe a hint of cinnamon and some lavender. Arthur pressed against Alfred's shoulder and dug his nose into the crook of the Alpha's neck. Alfred looked down at him, watching as he moved into his lap. 

_So, this is what a heat is like,_ Alfred thought, letting Arthur push him down. He brought his hands up to rest on the small of the Omega's back– teasing at the ends of Arthur's sweater. The Brit lapped and nipped at Alfred's neck, clawing at the American's shirt uselessly. Alfred pulled at the sweater– finally bringing it up to Arthur's head before watching the Omega sit up to throw it to the ground. It was the first time Alfred had seen an Omega's chest. His face went red. 

Arthur raised his hips slightly to pull Alfred's shirt off as well. He gasped when the Alpha leaned up to do it himself. Their chests were pressed together. Alfred let out a shaky breath, gripping the shirt tightly once more to ground himself before tossing onto the floor. Arthur pressed himself against Alfred desperately. The American's eyes went wide. Arthur was soft, really soft, he was warm too. Alfred hugged him– relishing in the feeling of the Omega's arms wrapping around his neck. 

Alfred swathed his arms around the Brit's waist to flip their position and gently press him into the mattress. He pulled the denim shorts Arthur was wearing off excitedly. Tossing them over his shoulder, he moved onto his own jeans– fumbling with the zip awkwardly. Arthur seemed to be getting impatient, but waited quietly nonetheless. Alfred grunted frustratedly and opted to move off the bed in hopes that it’d give him more leeway into shucking off his jeans– finally. Arthur leaned up– observing silently in amusement– Alfred’s zip was stuck.

“Dammit,” he gasped, turning to look at Arthur in desperation. “What do I do?” Arthur laughed despite his predicament. Alfred bit his lip and went red in embarrassment. He was trying, dammit! Arthur didn’t have to laugh at him!

“Sorry,” Arthur atoned, “Come here,” he opened his arms to beckon the American closer. Alfred collapsed onto him, resting his temple against the Brit’s shoulder. Arthur’s scent had dimmed from the lust born smell of lavender to a soothing honey. Alfred sighed.

He tried fumbling with his zip again, but was interrupted by the Omega. Arthur made it seem easy with how smoothly he got Alfred’s jeans to cooperate. The Alpha groaned when Arthur started laughing again. He decided to ignore the Brit in order to finally undo his button and get his jeans on the floor. He stared at Arthur from the edge of the bed– waiting for him to calm down so they could continue.

Arthur eventually coaxed him over and pulled him down for a kiss. His soft lips were a feeling Alfred would never get used to. Their mouths moved together languidly– yet, as Alfred finally settled over him with his hips between his legs, they worked each other up with eager grinding. 

Alfred was getting to be painfully hard. Just the feel of Arthur was enough to get him going, and they had never kissed like this before. His eighteen-year-old-virgin mind was running wild. Arthur’s fingers were rubbing at his collarbone before moving upwards to rest on his shoulder blades. He gasped and pulled away. The scent was back then– only stronger. 

"Please, Alfred," Arthur whined. Alfred felt the Omega buck his hips, rubbing against Alfred’s clothed dick. He fought the need to moan. "Please."

Alfred didn't respond– he grabbed the edges of Arthur's underwear, tugging them down to the Omega's ankles. He spit on his fingers before gently inserting one into his boyfriend. Arthur keened and arched. He was already wet. Alfred put another one in, leaning forward. Arthur's fingers dug into his shoulders– his knees bent and his head rolled back. Three fingers were in then.

"Now, I'm ready," Arthur begged, turning and kissing Alfred's cheek. Alfred ignored him for a moment, stretching him further. He dug his fingers in only deeper– scissoring and stretching and enjoying the heat of Arthur's insides. "Alfred!" Arthur demanded again, "C'mon!"

"Are you sure–"

"Yes! I'm sure! Now!"

Despite the facade of hesitation he put up– Alfred enthusiastically pulled his own garments off before, rather roughly, getting into his boyfriend. Finally, might he add. Arthur threw his head back, gasping loudly at the feeling of Alfred entering him fully. When Alfred got a look at his face, his eyes were wide and his mouth was agape. Maybe he went a little too fast. 

He stayed still for a moment while he waited for the Omega to tell him otherwise. Arthur was _tight,_ and _warm,_ and _everything Alfred could've imagined._ It took an ironclad will to resist the need to throw caution to the wind and just thrust wildly in and out of the tight, mesmerizing heat– but Alfred had just the restraint.. So what if he held onto Arthur's hips with enough force to bruise? At least he had a will of steel. 

Shakily, Arthur reached up to sandwich Alfred’s face between his hands. He pulled the American down for a kiss, keeping him there for a moment as he felt him begin to move. Alfred pulled out slowly, feeling Arthur relax underneath him.. He pushed back in and Arthur's toes curled. He pulled out, and Arthur breathed out a sigh, he pushed in, and Arthur's back arched. He wondered what would happen if he went faster. 

Arthur pulled away from the kiss, instead opting to rest his chin on top of Alfred's shoulder. He would sometimes curl into Alfred, putting his mouth right next to the Alpha’s ear. Arthur would gasp softly every so often– when Alfred would pull out. "More," he whispered. "Please– faster– Alfred!"

Alfred only groaned and leaned up. Arthur was forced to move his arms off Alfred's shoulders and moved them behind the pillow he was laying on. Alfred started moving faster– harder. He grabbed Arthur's hips again– pulling the Omega to him whenever he'd thrust forward and pushing him away whenever he'd pull out. Arthur watched with clenched teeth, pleasure spreading through his lower stomach every time Alfred thrust in.

Alfred continued, moving faster with each gasp and moan Arthur would make. He leaned over the Omega again, pulling him into a kiss. He swallowed each muffled sound the Brit would make– eventually releasing him for a breath. The scent was more obvious then. It drove Alfred wild. He wrapped his arms around Arthur's chest, kissing at his neck softly while he drove into him almost violently. Arthur’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide. Pleasure-born tears slid down his face as Alfred’s pace became too fast to keep up with.

Arthur cried out, eyes shutting tight as he came. He gripped the pillow with white-knuckle strength as his voice raised to a scream. One of the American’s hands wrapped around Arthur’s own, the other still digging into Arthur’s pale hip, pulling him back and forth even faster to try to get himself off. Arthur's eyes rolled back as a pleasant thrum of over stimulation overtook him. Alfred was groaning and gasping into his ears– squeezing his hand hard as he came as well.


	2. Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to continue it because the end of the last chapter was so abrupt haha sorryyyyy :^) ps. heres where the "teen mpreg" and " insanely conservative parents ahead" really play in :] lots of yelling

Alfred was almost sure his controller was broken. That’s what he got, he supposed. Gilbert was violent when it came to games that he sucked at. Despite Alfred’s pleas, he was unnecessarily careless. 

“Dude, if you’re not careful we’re gonna stop playing,” Alfred warned after the Prussian dropped the controller to the floor for the umpteenth time. Gilbert stopped his tantrum– instead of turning to look at Alfred. He hopped over the couch to sit down again. 

“Bro, sorry,” he said– sounding meek. “I just need to play until Mattie gets here, your house is boring,” Alfred rolled his eyes. His phone buzzed to life next to him, prompting him to check it and leave Gilbert to play on his own. 

It was a text.  _ Come over. Now,  _ it read, from Arthur. Immediately, Alfred went cold. He had done nothing wrong, it was just the implication that he was in trouble that stirred anxiety throughout his lower stomach. He shakily typed out  _ Sure!!! :^) Be there in 10!!! <3 _

“I have to go,” he said, voice trembling. Gilbert turned to him, worried. He didn’t bother pausing the game. He watched Alfred reach for his keys off the coffee table before stumbling his way to the front door. “You can keep playing, but if you break my controller, I break you.”

He didn’t let Gilbert ask anything before he was out the door and down the sidewalk. He usually walked to Arthur’s house– saving the environment, right? But his nerves got the best of him and so he instead chose to drive. He didn’t bother with the radio, Arthur was really close by car. Although the drive wasn’t long, it felt like an eternity between Alfred’s rising blood pressure and the sick, cold feeling that was rising in his stomach. He felt like he was going to be sick.

He parked by the neighbor's house, in case this was a secret visit and Arthur’s dad was to be made oblivious. He shot Arthur a text. It was rare for the Omega to be that vague, he usually followed his texts with a ' _ dad knows you're coming :']'  _ or a cheeky  _ 'come in the backdoor ;)' _

Alfred almost felt empty at the lack of brazen euphemism. 

Instead, he merely jumped the gate and waited by the garden window. He watched Arthur's dad through the slits in the blinds– he was watching television– and thus was caught off guard by the sudden hand grabbing at his arm and yanking him into the abode.

It was Francis. Alfred's stomach churned when he was faced with the lanky, bearded teen. He didn't much mind Francis, but the beta's constant flirtatious attacks on  _ both _ his brother  _ and  _ his boyfriend were enough to make him feel queasy at the implications of what he was doing at Arthur's house in the first place. 

Francis let him go but beckoned him up the staircase that happened to be right behind the back entrance. Alfred's eyes trained on Mr. Kirkland, praying that the man wouldn't get up or turn around or hear them. Alfred tripped over a pile of clothes on his way into the room.

Arthur was sitting on his bed, legs over the side, crossed. He looked how he did at family dinners he and Alfred were forced to attend to appease his extended family– all prim and God-like, pretending that they hadn't been all over each other in the bathroom. Alfred usually didn't pay much attention to his demeanor because it was never directed towards him. This, however… with those gorgeous, acidic green eyes tearing into him, making his skin burn with the sheer volume of focus Arthur was giving him… this made him uncomfortable.

Next to him, Feliciano sat with his legs crossed. It calmed Alfred to know that his boyfriend wasn't alone with Francis, but it still made him question why the bunch was together in the first place. He knew that Feliciano was in Arthur's gym class because of the anecdotes Arthur would share at the end of the day, but he didn't expect them to be anything but P.E. buddies. 

Arthur patted the area next to him. Alfred scrambled to get out of his thoughts before floundering to grab the invitation. The bed dipped with Alfred's weight, making Felciano lean forward and almost fall, but he pushed himself up from Arthur's shoulder. The Brit didn't move nor did he make a sound. He stared, determined, at the floor.

Francis cleared his throat, prompting Arthur to sit up and move so he was perched on his own knees. Feliciano gently grabbed his hand, and he let out a breath.

"Alfred," he started, closing his eyes. The aforementioned's eyes widened with attention. Arthur's scent permeated the room. It was sharp citrus that stung Alfred's senses. He was anxious, much more than he's ever been before. Alfred wanted to pull him into a hug and comfort him until there was nothing for him to worry about, but Francis started tapping his foot impatiently. "Do you love me?"

Alfred was shocked at the question but felt himself relax. "You know it, baby!" He responded with a wink and a lopsided grin. Despite his answer, Arthur's scent got worse. Even Feliciano's nose scrunched at the piqued rotten lemon stench. "I really, really do, Arthur," Alfred reaffirmed, leaning forward to press a kiss on the junction in which the Brit's nose met his cheek, just under his eye. 

Arthur breathed a sigh, and the smell dimmed– though it was still strong and almost repulsive. He finally looked at Alfred again, his once sour glare bore a closer resemblance to the bushes that grew around the trees in the backyard. They were soft, pleasant, and watery… Arthur was crying. 

Soft, choked sobs filled the air along with the scent of vanilla that replaced the horrendous rotting fruit. Vanilla and something herbaceous. Felciano's sweet, calming scent of mildew overlapped with Arthur's much sadder one as he leaned forward to wrap his arms around the Brit from behind. Arthur placed his hands in Alfred's. The Alpha squeezed them softly.

"I'm pregnant," he whispered after a few moments of sniffling and muffled crying. Alfred stared at him for a moment, mind managing to both go blank and run every possible thought a human has ever had as fast as they could. He wanted to scream, both out of anxiety and joy. He was going to be a father! Dear God, he was going to be a father. Arthur's father was going to kill him.  _ He was going to be a father! _

He couldn't remember how to speak, so he just leaned forward and hugged Arthur. Then, a salty, angry scent filled the room as the door slammed open. They all jumped, looking at the door. They found the Brit's father.

"I came up here…" he started through gritted teeth with a jaw so tight Alfred was sure it would break in half. He was shaking, his hands were clenched so firm his knuckles were white and his face was red enough to put a firetruck to shame. His thick, monstrous brows were drawn together almost comically. Arthur's father was going to kill him. "I came up here to see why my son was shifting through scents so fast."

"Dad, wait–"

"Shut up!" Mr. Kirkland yelled, making Arthur retreat closer to Feliciano. Alfred got up, suddenly feeling very unsafe for both himself and Arthur. "I told you! Jones was  _ never  _ good for you, I told you this would happen!" 

"I thought you liked him–!"

"Arthur! Shut the fuck up!" He was getting redder, angrier. He picked up the previously neat pile of clothes in one swift grip and threw them at Alfred. "Get out! You're out! Pack your shit!"

The rotten fruit scent was back. Alfred scrambled to grab the clothes as they fell off his chest. Arthur was sobbing, pleading, "No, dad! Please, listen!" But Mr. Kirkland was stomping out of the room, yelling about how Arthur was a whore and telling his wife, very loudly, that they no longer had a son. Arthur got up, trying to chase after him. Alfred followed, not bothering to check if Feliciano or Francis were doing the same.

Arthur's mom looked shocked... like she had never seen her husband so angry. She looked at Alfred and bolted from the room into her own. Arthur begged her to stay, then looked at his father. He was babbling, Alfred wasn't even sure if what he was saying was proper English. He could barely be heard over his father's angry hollers. Alfred grabbed his shoulders gently and led him from the room, out of the house.

Feliciano and Francis took their leave toward their respective homes with merely a sympathetic apology and a hug to Arthur from each of them. Alfred loaded his boyfriend into the car and drove them around. He was turning over different ways he could broach the topic to his mother. Arthur surely needed a place to stay and, as a loving boyfriend and soon-to-be father, Alfred wasn't going to let him stay anywhere he wasn't sure he could be safe.

He didn't like thinking about how that unsafe place was Arthur's own family.

He stopped at an Iceberg drive-in. Ice cream could help. He had plans to eat with Matthew and Gilbert, but they surely hadn't made enough to accommodate an extra, uninvited mouth. The melancholy scent of vanilla and hay-like narcissus and the sobbing from his inconsolable Omega made it difficult to focus. He got out of the car after pressing a soft kiss to Arthur's forehead and a soft  _ be right back. _

He wasn't sure what Arthur wanted to eat, so he just ordered the same thing for the two of them. Hamburgers. Chocolate ice cream. Arthur wasn't going to finish his, but the leftover ice cream was the same as fresh ice cream. He called his mom.

"Mom," he greeted before getting cut off by her worried cries asking him where he went. "I'm an adult, mom, I can take care of myself. I need you to listen."

She continued to tell him how worried she was. He wasn't gone that long… he looked at his watch. It had been two hours since they had left the Kirkland home. He managed to listen to his mom's rants while picking up his order. 

"Mom, please listen," he pleaded, walking for enough from the cashier's desk and his car so that nobody could hear him. "Arthur's pregnant, mom."

At that, she stopped. She let out a noise on the other line that made Alfred imagine her face. Wide eyes, raised eyebrows, dropped jaw. Her hand was probably running through her hair or maybe it just stopped in its tracks. "What?" She said, clearly not processing.

"I got him pregnant, probably last week in December when his parents went on their honeymoon," he sighed, rubbing at his neck nervously. He felt like he was telling her he failed a test. "His dad overheard him tell me and kicked him out. He needs a place to stay."

"Oh, of course!" His mom said, snapping suddenly from her stupor. It was loud enough to shock Alfred and make him pull the phone away from his ear. He thanked her meekly and hung up before she could begin babbling away.

He made his way back to the car. Arthur was no longer crying, though his scent was stronger and his eyes were red. He was laying his head against the dash. Alfred handed him his ice cream and drove him home.

"I love you," Arthur confessed, taking a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. Alfred smiled and grabbed his free hand. 

"I love you, too, Art," he replied, staring at the road with bright eyes. 

"Let's get married," Arthur demanded, leaning up to sit back in his seat.

"Okay," Alfred agreed. "But you have to let me do an actual proposal. Like, a ring and everything. But from this point on we're really engaged. I just want to make you feel special. Because you are."

Arthur blushed but nodded.

Alfred was shamelessly romantic. Arthur kept it sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoo boye that was a ride. i honestly kinda didnt think i'd continue this but overall im happy with it :) the end wasn't that good once again but i still have a lot to work on. thanks for reading :^)

**Author's Note:**

> ahah I might write a follow up bc that ending was NOT stellar haha.


End file.
